by Joyce Magnin
Studebaker raised his voice above the crowd. "Gall darn it," he said. "That explains why the quarry shut down so fast. Good old W. T. Sakolas ran off with all the money. He probably masterminded the whole robbery."
"And he never got caught," Bill said. "Died a rich man."
"And I bet his wife was pretty happy, too," Edie said. She gave Bill a punch in the arm.
"So that man sent people on a wild goose chase for a buried treasure that never got buried. He was a genius," Zeb said. "Oops, I got to turn some baloney."
"And that's just what we've got here," Ruth said. "Baloney. After all that work. We got baloney."
"Well, the news isn't all bad," I said. "You guys solved the mystery, a fifty-year-old mystery. Maybe that Dabs Lemon will want to write the story in the Shoops Sentinel. You'll be famous."
It was at that moment I had a revelation. "Dabs," I said. I found Dot. "Dabs Lemon. He the ticket."
"Go get him, Griselda," Dot said.
"What about him?" Zeb said. "What about him?"
"Nothing. I better go."
I ran outside and stood in the street remembering what Dabs Lemon said to me the day of the pumpkin weigh-off.
"I'd put my money on that woman Gilda Saucer to be the trouble maker," he had said.
I ran back into the café and called for Ruth. "Come on, I need to drive into Shoops. And I want you to go with me."
"How come?" she asked.
"Because. I don't want to go by myself. I'll explain on the way."
"What's going on?" called Stu. "Why are you so excited, Griselda."
"I can't talk now." I grabbed Ruth's hand, and we ran out of the café like two pinballs.
Ruth climbed into the truck cab and I dashed around the side.
"Remember that day at the pumpkin weigh-off?" I said as I turned the ignition. "Dabs Lemon stopped us. Remember what he said?"
Ruth's eyes grew large. "Oh, oh, wait a minute now, Griselda. It's coming back to me. I remember. He said something about Gilda. He said he was leery of her—not in those words exactly but the feeling is the same."
"That's right. He knows something about her. He's got the goods. Or at least he can find out. I just hope we can get to him in time."
"In time for what?"
"In time to keep Gilda Saucer from marrying Walter and hurting Stella."
I dropped the gear shift into reverse and started to back out of my spot when I stopped on account of what I saw in my rearview mirror.
35
Maybe we won't have to go," I said.
"Now what? Griselda, you're confusing me. Are we driving to Shoops or not?"
"Look, it's Mildred, and she has Cliff with her. I've been looking for them all day. Last thing I heard was Cliff and Mildred took off together, probably in his plane."
"Oh, my." Ruth rubbed her forehead. "This is turning into something altogether unpleasant. I feel like I just want to go home. I'm tired from treasure hunting. That's enough mystery for me, and for heaven's sake, if Walter wants to marry Gilda then God bless them."
I looked at Ruth. She did seem a little worse for wear. "You can go home, Ruth, but I have to speak with Cliff."
"As long as you don't mind. Maybe I'll go on over to Ivy's and visit with her and Mickey Mantle for a little while."
"That's fine. You go on. Maybe Stu will drive you."
"No, no. I think I'll walk. The cool air will do me good."
Mildred pulled her car into her spot. I pulled back into mine.
"I'll see you later, Ruth." I jumped out of the truck and ran to meet Cliff and Mildred.
"Griselda, I'm glad you're here. I got some big news," Mildred said.
"I hope so. I've been looking for you two all day. Gilda came this close to marrying Walter."
"She didn't, did she?" Mildred asked.
"No. I just said she came close."
"That's good. We have to stop her."
"I was just on my way to see Dabs Lemon," I said. "I hope you have the news we need."
Mildred hitched up her holster. "Let's all go inside the café."
Most of the treasure hunters were still inside laughing at what they now considered the best April Fools' joke of all time.
Mildred raised her hand. "Quiet, please. Everyone quiet down." I half-expected her to fire off a round when the group continued to talk and laugh.
"Please," she said raising her voice even more. "Stop talking. This is official police business."
"Police business," hollered Edie Tompkins. "My Bill found that treasure box fair and square."
"It's got nothing to do with that stupid old treasure," Mildred said.
"Then what gives?" called Bill Tompkins.
"If you will all just settle down, I'll tell you."
Cliff sat at the counter on the first stool—the one Gilda usually occupied. Zeb came out from the kitchen and stood near him. "What in tarnation is going on? This is a restaurant not a police station."
"We've got some pretty interesting information, Zeb," Cliff said.
"Hey," Studebaker said, "isn't this where the lights go off and the criminal escapes?"
He got a chuckle from the crowd and seemed pleased with himself.
"Now are you all going to take this seriously or not?" Mildred said. "It concerns Gilda Saucer."
"Probably not," Bill Tompkins said. "No crime has been committed. And that pretty young thing just wants to get married. Nothing illegal about that."
"Not yet," Mildred said. "But—"
Unfortunately, Mildred did not get to say what she was itching to say. The door swung open and in came Gilda and Boris Lender. The café hushed as all eyes turned to them.
"Howdy," Gilda said. "Whatcha all looking at?"
Boris put his arm around Gilda's shoulders. "We don't have to eat here. We can go on over to Personal's or maybe even The Pink Lady down in Shoops."
"No, no," I heard her say. "We can stay here. I just can't imagine, though, why all these people are here."
"Bill Tompkins found the treasure," Stu said.
Gilda Saucer's eyes grew about as wide as, well, saucers. She stood there transfixed on Stu for about ten seconds and then seemed to regain consciousness. "Oh, that's nice. I . . . I. Was it . . ."
"Not what anyone expected," Bill called from his booth in the middle of the café.
Gilda pulled away from Boris and found Bill who was holding the little strongbox. "Is that it?" she said. "That thing you got in your hand? Is that it?"
Bill held it up so she could see. "Don't know why you're so upset over it, but yeah, I found nothing but this box and nothing but an IOU inside."
The crowd laughed again as Gilda seemed to twirl around in one place looking for something to say or somewhere to go. "But it was supposed to be a million dollars. Walter said he was hunting down a million-dollar treasure."
"Well, Walter was wrong," Bill said. "We all were. We were all tricked."
"Tricked?" That was when I saw Gilda notice Cliff Cardwell standing off to the side like he didn't want her to see him.
"Did you know about this, Mr. Cardwell? Did you know it was joke? A lie?"
All eyes turned to Cliff.
"I just made an emergency landing in town," he said. "I didn't know anything about a treasure."
"But that isn't what your reputation would suggest, Mr. Cardwell, or should I say Mr. Cliff the Griff," Gilda said.
A collective gasp filled the room.
"I know who you are and so does everyone else in this little old town. You're the one everyone should be talking about. Not me."
"I've mended my foolish ways and turned a new leaf," Cliff said. "Wish we could say the same for you."
Harriet Nurse who had been sitting with Jasper York stood. She tossed a napkin on the table. "Oh, I just can't stand all this tension. Come on Jasper let's go home. I don't care two licks about treasure, flim-flam artists, or Gilda Saucer. A hussy is a hussy, and we can't go arresting hussies just because we don't like them in o
ur town."
"I am not a hussy," Gilda said. "I'm just . . . stylish and sophisticated."
"That's right," Boris said. "She can't help it if she has a shapely body and—" He stopped talking.
Harriet pushed her way through the crowd followed by Jasper York who was followed by several other folks until all that remained were a few of the curious—like Edie Tompkins and Frank Sturgis. Of course, Studebaker stayed behind, and Dot had tables to wait. But Mildred certainly found the extra breathing room to her liking.
"That's better," she said after the door closed for the last time. "Now, Miss Saucer, or should I call you Mrs. Stern? Mrs. Irene Stern."
A second gasp filtered through the café.
Gilda sucked a breath and then seemed to have swooned and fell into Boris's arms.
"Now look what you did," Boris said. "You made her faint."
"She didn't faint," Cliff said. "She's just a good actress." He applauded what he no doubt thought a performance.
"Now look here, Mr. Cardwell," Boris said, "you might be new in town but around here we take care of each other."
Mildred bent down near Gilda and fanned her face. "Ah, she's all right. Somebody get her a glass of water."
Zeb hurried to her side. She opened her eyes and sipped at the drink with her big blue eyes gazing at Boris. "I'll be all right now. I . . . I just don't know what came over me. All this excitement and accusatory words. I . . . I just couldn't take it I suppose."
Cliff coughed.
"But Gilda," Boris said. "Is what Mildred said true? Is your name Stern. Mrs. Irene Stern?"
Gilda started to cry.
"Ah come off it," Cliff said. "She is still acting. We know the whole story."
That was when Zeb decided to take the situation in hand. "OK, OK. I don't know what's going on around here but this is a family café, not a court of law or any other kind of court. You all have a problem take it down to the town hall. I have a business to run."
Gilda clambered to her feet but still hung on Boris Lender. "Thank you, Boris. You're my true friend."
"I think Zeb is right," Boris said. "This isn't the place to work things out, and as your attorney, I must advise you not to say another word."
"But I ain't been accused of anything. Have I been arrested?"
"No, no," Boris said. "I want to protect you, that's all. We need to discuss this privately."
"Privately," Mildred said. "You can do just that but I'm here to say that Gilda Saucer, aka Irene Stern, is what we call a black widow."
A third and louder gasp rose to the ceiling.
"Now see here, Mildred," Boris said. "If you have charges to level against this poor, defenseless woman I suggest you do it. Otherwise you can't hold her on anything." Mildred backed off. "No, sir, I have nothing to arrest her on. But—"
"But nothing," Boris said. "Come on, Gilda."
The café quieted once again as Boris helped Gilda outside.
"Can you believe that?" Mildred said. "She has Boris snowed. Completely snowed."
"And they thought I was great con artist," Cliff said.
Everyone looked at him.
"Oh, come on, I know you all know about me. I am not an idiot. But you have to know that I have turned a new leaf. I'm not the same man I once was and my coming to Bright's Pond was quite accidental." Then he looked at me. "Well, maybe God had it planned, but I certainly didn't."
Bill Tompkins stood with his strongbox. "Well, I for one am exhausted. I'm taking my treasure and going home. I don't care enough about Gilda or Irene or whoever she is."
"What are you going to do with the IOU?" Stu asked.
Bill shrugged. "Oh, I don't know, I might frame it. Hang it over my work bench in the garage."
Others followed suit and headed out with Bill until only Mildred, Cliff, me, and Zeb, who was busy in the kitchen, were the only ones left.
"What just happened?" I said. "I thought you had something. Something big. What exactly is a black widow?"
Mildred sat at the first booth and called to Dot. "Could you bring me a cuppa coffee, please."
"Sure thing, Mildred," Dot said. "But I want to know what this black widow stuff means, too."
"I'll tell them if you want," Cliff said.
"Go on," Mildred said. "I'm bushed."
"Gilda . . . I mean Irene or Georgia or Fern," Cliff said, "whatever she's calling herself, is in the marrying business. She marries men for their money—or their treasure—and then they mysteriously die or she gets a divorce—and their money. She's been arrested six times in the last ten years but always got away, scot-free."
"Oh no," I said. "That's why she was so interested in the treasure. Is that what you were going to tell me in the plane . . . before the fuel line broke?" I asked.
"Yes. But I only had suspicions then. Nothing concrete. Sometimes it takes a thief to catch a thief. That's why I went to see that reporter in Shoops. Reporters have a way of finding stuff that ordinary people don't."
"Poor Walter," I said. "Now we really have to stop her."
"But she's also in the clear so far," Mildred said. "She's been exonerated each and every time and has not committed any crimes since coming to Bright's Pond."
"We at least have to tell Walter and Stella," I said.
"Maybe Walter already knows," Cliff said. "It's possible she told him everything and it doesn't matter. We'll just see if she goes through with the wedding now that the treasure has been found and there's no million dollars to marry."
"Where is Stella, anyway?" asked Mildred.
"I left her at Greenbrier."
"You might want to get back there," Cliff said. "Keep an eye out and maybe run all this by Stella."
"She'll kill her," I said. "Stella will kill Gilda."
36
It was nearing seven o'clock, and I figured Stella was probably good and tired. But I knew I had to tell her the truth about Gilda that night. It would be best coming from me. I rehearsed what I was going to say on my way to the nursing home. No matter how many ways I put it, there was no way to sugarcoat the fact that her brother had been taken in by a con artist, a black widow only after his money. The only positive thing was that the treasure was a hoax. Hopefully, she'll run the other way and start looking for a new patsy.
Walter's room was dark. Stella sat in the chair next to him. It looked like she hadn't moved.
"Oh, Griselda," she said. "I just got back. I was in the nurses' lounge for a while. They served me supper—nothing spectacular, roasted chicken I think, but still it was supper just the same. Then I went and sat with Agnes. She prayed for Walter and for me, and she even said some kind words for Gilda."
"That's nice, Stella; I'm glad you got something to eat. How's Walter doing?"
"About the same. He's been sleeping the whole time."
I stood near Walter's side and watched him breathe—slow and steady. He certainly didn't appear sick or injured. I had to wonder why they were still keeping him in the nursing home.
"The doc was in once to check him and said he looked good. Sally was here, you know, in and out taking his blood pressure, looking in his eyes, listening to him breathe. All without him waking up."
She looked past me out the window into the night.
"I got kind of worried and asked if she was sure he was still alive. He looks so . . . so lifeless there."
"I came to take you home," I said putting my hand on her shoulder. "You must be tired."
"Oh geez, Griselda. I guess I better get home. Nate is probably fit to be tied. No one there to make his supper and all."
"He's a big boy. I'm sure he fixed something himself."
She laughed. "Nate? Cook? The man can barely boil water or spread butter on toast."
I knew I needed to tell her about Gilda but right then it wasn't time. I didn't want to tell her in Walter's room in case he woke up.
"Let's go home, Stella."
"You think I should leave him? What if that Gilda comes back and tries to marry h
im in the night? Like a thief?"
"I don't think she'll be back, and besides, he's still pretty out of it and Boris won't go through with it until he's awake. We'll ask Sally to call if she sees Gilda, OK?"
"OK, but I want to come back first thing in the morning. I just know something is wrong. I can feel it in my chest."
"You're right," I said. "Something is wrong."
"I knew it. Tell me, Griselda. Did you find Cliff and Mildred?"
"Let's talk on the way home, not in front of Walter."
Stella walked out of the room ahead of me. "You sound awfully serious," she said.
"Let's find Sally first."
"OK, but please, you're sort of scaring me."
"I don't mean to scare you. It's just been a long day."
Sally actually found us. "You two still here?"
"We're just leaving," I said. "We wanted to ask you if you would call me if Gilda shows up with Boris again."
"You know I will," Sally said. "But trust me, Walter will sleep through the night."
Stella and I walked to the truck, where I told her the news.
"A black widow? I don't understand," she said. "You mean Gilda Saucer, or whatever her name is, is a professional marrier and maybe even a murderer?"
"That part's never been proved, but yep, she marries guys and then dumps them for their money."
"The treasure," Stella said.
"Oh, you don't know about that either. Geez, a lot has happened today. Bill Tompkins found it."
Stella sucked all the air out of the truck cab. "He did. Wow! Was the money there? Was it really a million dollars? What'd it look like? Holy cow!"
"Hold on, I don't have great news about that either. Bill dug up an old strongbox, looked like something out of Dodge City. He opened it in front of everyone at the café and—"
"It overflowed with money?"
"No. There was nothing but a note inside. An IOU for one million dollars."
"I don't understand."
"They figure that the quarry owner, W. T. Sakolas, masterminded the whole thing—the train robbery, the story about the safe being buried out there—the whole thing and then ran off with the money."
"No kidding. Well that means—"